pairing: Daveed Diggs x Reader Summary: Nothing is fixed, nothing is broken. In the end, is it worth all of the effort? rating: Angst, angsty angst, word count: 3982 inspiration: “What does it feel like, to lose everything?”
Daveed hears these words echo in his mind and opens his eyes almost instantly. He’s resting in his room and for a moment, he’s completely taken back.
He directs his hand up to his neck where he expected the gash, raw and wounded; however, the moment his hand reached the skin it was met by the texture of a large scar, still burning from treatment. Then he lets his eyes wander around his room: the curtains are open for the first time since you left, allowing some of the light seep into the once dark room.
This is a Rossi x Reader fic requested by @heaven-bound-angel. I would like to seriously quadruple apologize for how long this took me to get to and write and how inactive I’ve been lately. Life has been awful and chaotic, but last night I found time to write this, so please enjoy.
You act as bait so as to catch an unsub. You’re supposedly a damsel in distress. Your relationship with Rossi is revealed.
Rossi was grumpy. Really, really grumpy, to the point of no rational explanation. He was cooped up in the van with the rest of the BAU, observing monitors and listening to headsets. It was easy work, work that was not dangerous, and so nobody knew why in the world David Rossi was literally seething in the back of a federal SUV.
Granted, you weren’t there. No, instead, you were off barging into the bar that was openly expressed by the unsub as his favorite hunting grounds, and you were just casually strutting around, just his type and smiling like you had been struck upside the head with immense vulnerability at a much younger age: the recipe for the perfect victim.
And that right there is the key. You barged on in there (though you were far from a damsel in distress, anybody that knew you knew that) without consulting Rossi at all. It shouldn’t have hurt. He himself didn’t think he deserved the right to discuss which missions you run at head first and which you don’t, but that feeling of what the literal hell, y/n stuck at him like a needle in his side.
David is snapped out of his trance, jumping from his seat and immediately leaping to action when he hears you tack the word sugar to the end of a sentence, your code word that your job was done and backup was needed. Before the rest of the BAU was even standing, he was out of the van and heading toward the front doors of the club, his face gloomy and dark beneath the shadows and neon colors of the club’s lights.
He pushed through crowds, past people and indeterminate faces, until he reached the back bar, his gun at the ready, “FBI!” He shouted pointlessly. You already had the unsub pinned to the bar, handcuffed and scowling. Rossi let out a breath and glared some more. He turned around just as the others were getting there.
By the time you were comfortable leaving the unsub with the local cops, Rossi had basically locked himself in one of the SUV’s, a frowning, glaring mess.
You knocked on the window, “Rossi? What is up with you?”
There was hesitation and you wondered if you had gone to the right car, but then the window started to roll down, “Nothing’s wrong, y/n. Just go do your job, okay?”
“I did.” And you glared back a little bit because who the hell was he to be so stubborn, “Let me in.”
He didn’t even pause as his frown sunk deeper, “Hotch, Morgan, and Emily already called seats in this car. You have to go in the other one.”
Before you could even attempt to resist, the window was whirring closed and Rossi was masked behind darkly tinted glass.
You wandered aimlessly to the other car, wracking your brain for reasons why Rossi might have been mad at you.
A car ride from the downtown bar back to headquarters apparently was not long enough for Rossi to get over his irritation. He continued to act glarey and weird, fidgeting minutely, ignoring you.
You waited for the others to disperse, to find their own offices and piles of paperwork, before you approached Rossi. Your fingers fluttered to his elbow in that secretive way you had done oh so many times, a bold attempt for armistice, an olive branch.
“What’s wrong, Dave?” You asked, voice low.
He pulled away from you, hating the familiarity and sincerity and gentleness of the way you easily checked up on him, and that was when he exploded.
“What’s wrong? What’s wrong? What’s wrong is that you’re reckless!” He bellowed, barely even trying to keep his voice down
Your face flushed, “Dave,” You hissed, “Not here, okay?”
The laugh that followed sent a shudder up your spine. It was hollow and bitter, a sound you never would have expected to come from David Rossi of all people, “You know what, y/n?” He continues, voice raising, completely ignoring your heavy suggestion, “I’m frankly insulted that you didn’t even think about talking to me before you just barged right in there. Does an entire year mean nothing to you? Because I know for a fact that it means something to me!”
His voice was high, a hellish shrill that made you feel guilty and angry at the same time.
You bark back, tone matching tone because of course he damn well means something to you. David Rossi means everything to you, but somehow he’s too dumb to see that. You tell him, tell him with all the fury and rage and sincerity you can muster. You defend yourself, claim your innocence and stake your heart. Your voice doesn’t waver or crack and neither does your expression, stone fighting stone.
The volume of your argument has multiplied exponentially and by the time you both pause, panting heavily, the inevitable realization that the entire team overheard- well, everybody probably overheard, neither of you were exactly whispering- dawned on you.
As if to do nothing but emphasize that point, Derek and Emily strode into Rossi’s office just then, smirking despite the heavy wake of the heated argument. They look back and forth between the two of you, studying your glares and raising chests for a second, before a smile broke across Emily’s face.
“Oooh, a lover’s quarrel!” She squealed in delight before cracking into hysterical laughter alongside Derek.
You stammered hopelessly, and David seemed to share the same minimal composure as you, “Wh-what? I don’t know what you- I thi- I-”
“I don’t know what you think you heard but- I know th- You sh-” David was just as bad as you.
Derek found a break in his laughter, “Are you guys kidding?”
Blank, nervous expressions only cause them to laugh more.
“Aw, Derek, they actually thought we didn’t know!”
“They probably thought they were being subtle!”
“Guys, we’re profilers!” Emily seemed to be having trouble catching her breath, tears in her eyes following the hysteria, “We’ve known for ten months now!”
You were stammering, and so was David. For a couple of intelligent, successful adults you certainly were not the most eloquent agents In the world at the moment.
Rossi flushed deeper when Hotch entered the room, clearing his throat. The SSA looked from face to face, examining the edge of hysteria and studying the proof of anxiety and he cracked a small smile as he looked in your direction.
“Don’t worry, guys,” Hotch said, “I cleared your relationship with HR months ago.”
French translations by @mllemensonges who I am forever grateful to for helping me avoid the curse of Google Translations. English translations are at the end of the fic.
Walking with the tide of the water was far easier than
trying to fight against it and, with the combination of that and having Jack at
his side, Davey was starting to think that this might turn out okay.
With each step they took it got more and more obvious that
the ship was listing badly. It was like walking uphill and, when they got to another
set of stairs a little way down the corridor that had yet to be engulfed
completely by the water, Davey gladly took Jack’s hand to be pulled up onto the
first step. They scrambled up one flight and were relieved to be back on dry
ground, even if they were both soaked and shivering and Jack still had a
handcuff round each wrist. Alive and together seemed like a step up from
everything that had happened.
“Are you okay?” Jack asked, pulling Davey into a hug before
checking him over. He had hated the idea of leaving him with Esther and Snyder,
even if Sarah had been there to mitigate.
You were thankful for the long weekend ahead. It meant that you could finally go apartment hunting and find yourself a decent place to live.
That is, of course, if a case didn’t drop into the team’s lap.
And sure enough, just as you were waking up that morning, you heard a light knock on the guest bedroom door.
“Y/N?” Rossi asks.
It was then that you finally heard your phone vibrating.
“Gimme 20 minutes,” you grunt out as you hear the retreating footsteps of the man that had been gracious enough to allow you to borrow his guestroom for the evening.
So much for apartment hunting.
The team gave the two of you slightly odd looks when you both walked in together carrying identical coffee mugs, but you were too tired to field their questions….and 30 minutes later, the team was in the air and heading for Montana.
Slowly flipping through the file folder in your lap as you sip on your newly-refreshed cup of coffee, David scoots into the seat in front of you and sits down, sliding a piece of paper towards you as you flicker your gaze up to see what it was.
“What’s this?” you ask lightly as your gaze whips to the older gentleman seated in front of you.
“It’s a rental agreement,” he says matter-of-factly.
Furrowing your brow as you set your mug down, you pick up the piece of paper as your eyes flicker over it.
“No,” you state, setting it back down and sliding it towards Rossi.
“Why not?” he asks, sliding the paper back towards you.
The team, while still looking at their file folders, were now fully engrossed into your conversation.
“You can’t continue to stay in that motel, Y/N…” David trails off.
It was the second time that day he had used your first name.
When did the two of you hit a first-name basis?
“And I told you I would find a place,” you say.
“Motel?” Hotch pipes up.
“Jesus…” you whisper to yourself as you close your eyes.
“Have you not found a place to live yet, Y/L/N?” Spencer asks.
“It’s not a big deal,” you say, shaking your head as your hand wraps around your coffee mug again.
“It is if you’re staying in a seedy motel,” J.J. pipes up.
“Since when did my well-being suddenly become a priority?” you bite, getting frustrated with the conversation.
“Since you became a part of this team,” Derek pipes up.
“You could’ve come and stayed with me…” Spencer trails off.
“Not with your special proclivities, I couldn’t,” you mumble under your breath, causing Rossi’s eyes to widen slightly as Spencer’s face flushes furiously.
“What did she say?” J.J. murmurs towards Hotch.
“Nothing,” you pipe up, trying to steer the conversation away, “…just…let’s focus on the case, alright?”
And with that last sentiment, you shove the piece of paper back towards David, his face sinking lightly as you drop your gaze back to the file folder in your lap.
Hey you know what pairing is in Young Folks? DaveJade. You know what Dave should wear for Jade for V-day? Panties. Ironically, of course, and not because his adorable girlfriend asked, or because Dave kind of likes it. XD Bonus if he does this via video chat and does a sexy dance for her that is more hilarious than sexy.
“Aint I just a pretty princess?” you mutter to yourself as you yank the gauzy piece of fabric up and over your ass.
Shit. Your cock hangs out and you’ve no idea what’s going on with your balls, even. When you try to shove your porksword back in your left testicle pops out over the edge. The seam chafes like a son of a bitch. Seems like big Dick and the twins can’t be contained. Nope.
“You should take off your socks, dummy.”
You jump about a mile. Your lap rocket seizes the opportunity to make another bid for freedom. Goes flop over the edge. Dangles a little.
Jess...Asahina just called from my place and mentioned Mukuro is trying to get in through the mail slot with a sword the size of her body while Junko is behind her swinging a giant spoon against the door. Is this your doing?
6x04 reaction; Aftermath of the bear cub invasion. notes:this one won’t go up on ao3 until late - I apologize for any inconvenience! here it is!
While Blaine calls animal control, Kurt gives Rachel a knowing glance. She returns it with a terrified-slash-bemused expression, which reminds him that she’s completely unaware of Sue’s crazed mission to get him and Blaine back together. To her, the bear cub in the room is a complete mystery, and he should probably clear it up at some point. For now, though…
“I can’t believe there’s a bear!”
“Will you please calm down?” Kurt says as evenly as he can, turning to face Dave. At least he’s no longer holding the chair. “It’s not going to come crashing through a closed door.”